I never knew kicking zombies could be so fun
by Toss Me Away
Summary: A series of short vignettes. I kept a daily log of what happens in Dead Island. I kinda wish I had kept some sushi knives- or even a sushi chef in my pockets, they would've been useful in an island filled with zombies.(Nameless OC.) (Cracky)(One-Shot)


Disclaimer: Do not own anything related to 'Dead Island' other than this story that takes place...in Dead Island. Yeah.

Title: I never knew (kicking zombies could be so fun!)

[WARNING] Spoilers for Act One. Lots of imagined stuff happening(Crack, as well). Self-insert (As in the character doesn't exist, I dumped her ass there.) Musings, thoughts, monologues...

1.

[TEEN]

I thought I was in Japan. With my classmates, on a normal, fun, 3 week-long school trip. Turns out I was on Dead Island. Perhaps the plane fell on the way back. Or something. I don't see any plane bits and pieces.

What I know is: My friends are not here.

I wish I had kept some sushi knives or even the sushi chef in my pockets, they would've been useful. I had woke up on one of the lounge chairs. First thing I did was exploring the pool area. The reclining chairs were very comfortable.

[KICKING]

I never knew kicking zombies would be so fun.

Really, I never did. Until Dead Island, I never had the urge to keep on kicking the darn things. Those stuff put there, on the floor, by me. Every single one of these zombie, male or females, were brought down by a flimsy handmade cleaver. It used to be one of the weapons held in the hand of the infected. I had kicked it so hard, it hit the pavement and then I clobbered it with a metal pipe. The head imploded upon impact of the pipe against cranium. Brain matter spluttered out- dripping all over the walls.

The hotel was infested with droves and droves of the zombies. The voice on the intercom insisted that I go towards the beach- describing a pool house of some sort. I had unfinished business with those arm whacking zombies, thus I kicked, kicked and kicked them to hell.

[SINAMOI]

I don't know why he keeps insisting on calling me a 'he'. Can't he see that I'm clearly not a man? And I'm right in front of him to boot.

He finished talking and gave me a note- asking me if I could do whatever it was he was blathering about since an hour ago. He even wrote down 'Easy' on the difficulty. They even have a rating system for how hard the job was? Maybe it's some sort of established routine work.

I took the job. What did you expect me to do? They were looking as if I was their _Savior_ and these mooks can't even use a gun.

[TEDDY]

I saw a teddy bear earlier. Annie's Teddy, I think. Because Lucy obviously didn't need one, I picked it up after giving Hector a haircut.

"...And no bloody end to it." she mumbled, rocking in her spot. I called it her spot because no amount of damage seems to affect her. A Molotov, a bomb, and a few bullets didn't seem to do anything to her. Now Hector, he's a funhouse. Hector's haircut was done in seconds, and he was screaming when it was over. I thought it was a vast improvement from his usual hairstyle. The teddy bear had been chuckling over the bloodstains, and Lucy just kept rocking and rocking in her spot...

When Anne saw the state of the Teddy she seemed to have a panic attack.

"That's not Annie's Teddy!" She shrieks, and Kim glares at me. "What do you think you're doing? Can't you keep her quiet? All the zombies will come if you don't shut her up."

"I got her the teddy." I said indignantly. "She was the one who asked for it."

"For god's sake, get her one that's not so bloody."

"This Teddy's hurt! It's not mine! It isn't! Mine's strong!" She scrambled away from the toy, nudging it away with her toes.

"There's a teddy by the beach. Alone. Relatively unharmed. I'll be back." I took the bloody teddy with me to compare it with the other one.

Going to the beach took me 3 hours, as the zombies kept tagging along and I couldn't stand the idea of being ambushed by numerous brain deficient bodies.

"And stay down forever this time!" I yelled as I slammed the end of the paddle on the head of a particularly noisy zombie. Yelling was useless and attracts the attention of nearby zombies- and I was prepared. Tossing a Molotov cocktail towards the opening, the file of zombies staggered and stumbled awkwardly, their flesh burning and causing a stink.

"Ah, jeez." The teddy bear I had intended to use to compare it with the other one was thrown and thrown till it was ragged and dirty. It's okay, the one I was here for is still perfectly-

Oh gods...the Molotov cocktails caused a chain reaction and there was fire next to the chair and it was burned to a crisp as it was right on top of it.

I think there's still many teddies lying around, it's okay. I'll find a completely unharmed teddy.

[SUNSET]

There was a person sitting on the side of the walking planks, I sigh, as I investigated the last few floating bungalows by the beach side. Upon closer inspection, it was a dead body, looking out to the sea. I sat next to the dead body, picking up the energy drink that was beside it. Checking the due date and satisfying the urge to check if it's still safe to consume, I opened the can of drink and gulped down a mouthful before spitting it out again.

"Ugh. It tastes weird." Well, it was beside a dead body. I shouldn't expect drinks next to dead bodies to be palatable.

"Dude, you have bad tastes in drinks." I said to it as I poured the rest into its mouth.

The body turned to me and grinned, then looked back to the sunset.

"You don't get tired of watching the sun all day?" I asked, shaking the body's shoulder. It shrugged and sat silently.

We sat there for hours and the sky turned dark.

"It's been boring. Bye."

The body didn't move as I left.

[SUICIDE]

There was a gun, there wasn't a gun. I couldn't hold it, either way. Makes me angry. Angry means I butcher things. The dead body beside the gun, sitting in front of a beautiful spray of red paint- I surmise he'd given himself a farewell shot and this was his gun.

I can't pick it up. There's seriously something wrong with the gun. Did it say goodbye as well? It was there, I swear, I just can't-

Pick.

It.

Up.

Butchering the body is only half as fun as usual.

And when I came back on a whim after a day, the body was gone, along with the goddamn gun.

(*note: On a second play through, I got the gun. It must've been a bug earlier. )

[GUNS]

On the subject of guns, I found a guy named Omar in a house, saying some stuff about this dude who owe him cash, as the zombies flailed their hands outside like there's a rave.

"You sure got your priorities straight." I said, "Even in the event of zombie apocalypse."

"Heck, cash is cash. Zombie apocalypse or no." I can get behind that. So I did as he instructed and went into a creepy toilet where a thug tried to strangle me, looted the key and ran back to Omar who had been waiting patiently and not dying. What a relief, that the zombies knew better than to mess with my quest giver.

I still didn't let them go after Omar split the cash with me and gave me another quest to escort him to the guard house. They fell easily to my stabs, one by one.

[SISTERS]

I put Anne and Lucy in a room. They deserve each other for being so catatonic. They're like Soul Sisters. Without the souls and the psychiatrists telling them they should date each other to fill the void in their minds.

"Blood... so much blood..." they chorus in turns.

Ah, if only I could find my other half.

[STAGE]

The boy was silly. I helped him down from the speakers and he said thanks, but ran off before I could escort him to a safer place.

He's as dumb as a doornail. Or maybe he figured he shouldn't stay with me. As I love stabbing things.

[EVERYTHING]

"Take anything you like," He said, after I had bombed the lot of zombies fanboy-ing over him. "I owe you my life." No, not really. I have no plans to take care of him till he's guaranteed to be in a zombie-free zone. I'm not an Angel.

"There's nothing much in here," I said, rummaging through the shelves. Anything of worth had been stolen.

I went to his lorry. It wouldn't start. Kicking the wheels, I wondered how he was going leave this zombie infested beach.

[DIAMONDS]

Svetlana looked like a long lost twin sister of Annie. She even had the right attitude, pissed and raving mad. She had an infinite amount of diamonds hidden all over her body. How do I know this? I wanted to know how many diamonds she could give me, so I went and got a lot of champagne...and she gave me many diamonds.

2.

WARNING: (not all are) Spoilers for Act II (some of them are)

[PRAYERS]

I rolled on the wood floors of the church, and stare up into the face of the man on his knees. He was ignoring me. I rolled pass him a few times, trying to make him laugh. All he did was give me a look filled with despair. I sighed and went to talk to the church lady who seems to be in charge of these despair filled mooks.

She asked me to check out their water source, and I agreed I can't live without water. She then commented that she had thought I was one of the four horsemen, not a savior, and I laughed in her face. She gave me a puzzled look, since she couldn't understand that I had thought of myself as 'War'. Not whore, war.

Nobody upstairs gave me any errands, so I kicked them around a little and got some simple tasks. They really should know better than to deny me the tasks I earned.

[UBIQUITY]

I'm stuck somewhere in the quarantined area and billions of zombies kept running right at me. Sure, impossible to fit a million zombies. True, yet I felt like I've been facing a billion zombies, looking like humans and all fighting to get a piece of me.

[PUNKS]

They think they're better than me. They're being true to themselves, fucking hard, taking all and living fast. Banding together, all of them thinking of their own gain even as they huddle closer.

As I passed by a neighbour-hood filled with punks, two of them followed me, considering a lady walking the slums an easy prey. Me, easy prey? How did I go through those zombies in my way then? Did they say, 'Oh my, such a pretty lady, we must escort her straight to the punks- so that they can fuck her up.' Oh no, I walked right through them, my scythe swinging all the way- pass through their necks and arms and legs and limbs, one at a time or through a throng of them. After the quarantined area, I learnt to give my all to kicking and swinging, more swinging though. Armed with a hot rod modded kukri, I slashed through hordes and brought glory to the anti-zombie faction.

Enough about the zombies, we're here to talk about the punks.

Those two- one of them in a bright green parka, the other with a dull one and faded jeans. Both of them followed at a ten feet distance as I jogged leisurely towards a zombie strapped in a straight jacket. The zombie was frothing, struggling hard against his restrains and mad out of its mind. I was overjoyed to have met him for a few seconds, and then I dodged his rush by hopping onto the car beside it. It immediately switched its target of anger towards the two punks, and I watched as they were mauled pretty badly. I bet that the green parka would run away and his friend would die.

I sat and munched on an apple I picked up on the way. Ah, against my expectations, both of them perished. They did not zombify or stand up after the frothy ran through them. They didn't stand a chance. I threw a Molotov and waited for them to shrivel into a mess on the floor.

[KIDS]

When you see a lone kid standing in the shopping mall, the first thought that came to you wasn't, 'Is the kid lost?' But 'I hope he isn't going to steal anything,' because kids don't understand what stealing means. They see that the place is so full of things, that there wouldn't be problems if one just go missing, and it's not as if there was a lack of things in the place.

One thing could mean alot for another. Kids couldn't understand that, and that's why they're kids. When they do know, they've done all these terrible things. And that's why, we have to mediate, and make sure it's not too bad. Not so awful that- when they realize all the things they've done, they don't want to kill themselves. But sometimes, they understand all the shit they've done, and they still live, knowing that they've done all these shit-

And in the middle of the night, they curl up, sleepless. Nobody to tell them it was normal. But didn't the law write it clearly? Not knowing at the time only meant one thing- you have to educate yourself, of the laws and rights and things you can or cannot do... but what do kids know?

When do they know?

What do they do when they find out?

[FRIENDS]

Friends would shut doors in the face of friends- if they were bitten by a zombie. Friends ask strangers to killed aforementioned friends- because they can't do it, they couldn't hit someone they love.

"Sure,"

Two hits later, they entered with the knowledge I had just smashed the head of their friend into smithereens. And they rewarded me. Best. Job. Ever.

[HALL]

There were two men arguing in the city hall's stairwells.

"What do we do when we run out of food?"

I was patiently waiting for his reply. There wasn't one, so I grumbled about it and he just gave me this hopeless stare.

[WILD]

In the jungle, a wildcat tried eating a zombie. It didn't work out.

It didn't zombify. Thank heavens. I don't think I can kill a zombie wildcat.

They have to be really rare.

A/N: End. Sort of. Unless if you want to see what the heck happens after all this brain-screw. My personal favourite was [KIDS] Although that was written for a separate piece, a spin off from thinking very hard about what to put in my TBBT fanfic, which has really been static...*facepalm*


End file.
